


100-Word Drabble Collection

by skittles4zell



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, F/M, Gen, Language, M/M, mild crossdressing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 5,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4616547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittles4zell/pseuds/skittles4zell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles of 100 words I've written for the LiveJournal community, FFVIII_100. You can find it <a href="http://ffviii-100.livejournal.com/">here</a>.</p>
<p>Lots of pairings, lots of prompts, lots of miscellaneous shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> Drabbles are (mostly) unrelated and broken up within the chapter with this pretty asterisk: *

"I never pegged you for a drinker, Commander." Irvine grins, claiming the barstool beside the hero.

Squall can't hear him. Either that, or he chooses to ignore him. Irvine decides it's the first option and leans, bumping Squall's shoulder. This time, Squall gives him a glare. 

"That's what I was lookin' for."

"You wanted me to glare at you?" Squall takes a gulp from the drink he's been nursing. He hisses as the burn trickles down his throat.

Irvine laughs. "Get more of that ol' whiskey in your system, and I'll get a different reaction out of ya soon enough."

*

They had tried to keep the phone out of Rinoa's reach. It was hopeless, though, as she simply closed her eyes and used her psychokinetics to retrieve it from Selphie's bag. She giggled loudly and stumbled away from her friends, dialing the one number she shouldn't have been dialing.

"SQUALL?!" She was drunk, and volume levels didn't apply to her. "Ohmigod! I didn't mean to wake you, Squally." Rinoa giggled more and side-stepped Quistis as she attempted to save Rinoa from her own words. "Nonono. Hear me out. Fuck the cowboy all you want. Seifer was better in bed anyway."

*

Zell is a sloppy drunk. It's a painful truth, and Seifer has the bruised ribs to prove it. He tries holding the fumbling punk up, but he's going on and on about the injustices of the latest season of Esthar Idol. About how that Nate kid should have made it, and the judges were just biased against hot guys and - -

"Are you gay, Dincht?" Seifer halts his attempts to get Zell into his dorm.

-Hiccup- "Doesn't matter. You're hotter anyway." He grins and kisses him.

The alcohol on Zell's lips is a reminder that Zell won't remember tomorrow.

*

Quistis grimaced, turning her head away as Dr. Kadowaki dabbed the alcohol-soaked swab along the cut in her skin. It burned like nothing she'd ever felt. People actually used this as means of sterilization before potions and magic? 

Xu gave her an even look and spoke as if reading her thoughts, "You know we can't give you anything else until we know more about this new spell." She had her arms crossed over her chest, all stern and professional-looking, but Quistis saw the warmth and concern in her brown eyes.

"I know, Xu. However, it doesn't keep it from hurting."

*

He was warm and cozy in his dorm, tucked away from the partying underclassmen. He was safe there, away from the loud noises and obnoxious, drunken shouting. Safe from...

"CHICKEN-WUSS! Open your damn door. My cock wants to play a game of hide-and-cum-in-your-tight-ass. Wake up."

Seifer was out-of-his mind drunk, and Zell knew this. He knew Seifer's lips tasted like raspberry rum and burned with vodka. He'd come to Zell's dorm on more than one occasion, one too many Godheads in his system.

Funny how Zell always knew it was a bad idea but let him in just the same.

*

Squall hasn't eaten all day, and this makes it easier to get him drunk. 

I give one drink, and I get a bit of a smile. I give him two, and I get his flushed cheeks and more smiling. I give him three, and I can get him up on stage, singing. Give him four, and... 

He steals my hat and starts to sway his hips _just so_. Back in his dorm, his fingers are clenched in the sheets as I fuck him from behind, my own fingers clenched in the soft fabric of the skirt I talked him into. 

*

Selphie almost fell, nearly spilling her pink concoction. "Hey! Let's find a train! I love trains. So vroom-vroom and fast and weeeee!" She twirled and bumped into Irvine. Sober Irvine. Not cool. "Irvyyyy. Drink more. You'd be more fun that way."

He laughed, shaking his head. "No, doll. I'm here to make sure you don't hurt yourself."

"Psh." She shrugged and drank more from her cup, attempting to stay on the road. Outside. They were outside. With the stars and other outside stuff. She wished they were inside, though. Irvy was getting lots more do-able with each drank she took. 

*

They had saved the world, no one could deny that. They were a little deserving of a drink or two. Or three. Or four. Most of them lost count along the way. 

Irvine held his alcohol a bit better than most and sat listening to Selphie's drunken ramblings. 

"Doomtrain is totally awesome-cakes and OHMIGOD we found each other. Squall was so laaa-haaame at first."

Suddenly, Selphie froze and her eyes widened. She leaned in close to Irvine, whispering, "Irvyyy, heyyyy. Pssssttt. What if Ultimecia was Rinoa in the future?"

He tilted his head and blinked. Maybe she had had enough.

*

"You're not old enough to drink." The bartender peers at him carefully.

His lips curl into a rough sneer as he clenches his fist. "I'm not old enough to kill, either. Didn't stop someone from handing me a weapon."

The bartender either agrees or doesn't feel like arguing. He makes the drink and slides it towards the teenager. "You only get two, then you need to go home. Got it?"

He waves his hand and puts the glass to his lips, desperate for the calming effect he hasn't felt in what feels like forever. Her voice haunts his every thought.


	2. Birthday

It was her birthday, but Quistis didn't want everyone knowing about it. Assuming everyone had forgotten (thank you, guardian forces), she would be able to get through the day peacefully and without unnecessary attention. She had no recollection of her birth or her childhood, so she preferred not to dwell on it.

 _Easier said than done,_ she thought, stepping into her classroom. It was filled with balloons and miscellaneous decorations. Nothing went unnoticed on a certain Selphie Tilmitt's radar, and Quistis cursed her luck.

Yet she was thankful when her girlfriend sent her a "I'm taking care of it" text.

_Thank you, Xu._


	3. Close Quarters

"This will go by a lot quicker if you stay on your side," Zell spat, annoyed.

"More quickly, you mean," Seifer corrected, bored.

"Y'know what I meant!"

He shrugged. "I don't speak Chickenese, so I had to consult my translation guide."

If looks could kill, Seifer would have been dead by now. "Wouldn't be in detention if it weren't for those smartass remarks."

"Don't blame this on me."

"Well, it definitely ain't my fault!"

"Isn't, you mean."

There were loud curses following that, and the Garden Staff resolved to give the two more detention time. Separate rooms next time, though.


	4. Dirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: A few of these might be a little NSFW.
> 
> Reminder: Drabbles are unrelated and broken up within the chapter with this pretty asterisk: *

"You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you?" Seifer growled against Zell's ear, slowly inching his cock farther into Zell's tight entrance. "So slow it hurts you. Makes you want to beg for me go faster." He bit at Zell's ear, licking the lobe. "Harder."

Zell was only half-listening to Seifer's dirty talk, his mind a blurry haze of pleasure chemicals. He simply nodded his silent affirmative. His body twitched as Seifer's dick found his sweet spot. His silence was broken as he moaned for more; Seifer was right. He did like it like this.

Dirty love-making.

*

Zell muttered a string of curses as one of the hotdogs from his plate fell off and rolled under the table. "Son of a bitch, cocksucking whore, ass-wiping motherfucker..."

"Pick it up, Chicken-wuss. There's some kind of rule to dropping food on the floor."

He gave Seifer a doubtful look, ignoring the old name. "Huh? It's dirty."

"Five... Four... Three... Two..."

"It rolled under the table! Makes it especially gross!"

Seifer smacked the back of Zell's head just 'cause. "Your loss." Five seconds later, he gave Zell one of his before the marital artist could steal it from his tray.

*

Zell rarely argued when his ma insisted on doing his laundry. He wasn't very good at doing it himself; mixing the colors, adding too much detergent. 

But then he got mixed up with that Almasy jerk. It started out as harsh bickering and cruel words. Then somewhere along the way it got sexual. 

Zell's clothes were getting stains he'd rather not explain. Dirty knees on his jeans, dried blood on his t-shirts from scraping his elbows on the Secret Area's concrete floor, and dried cum splatters on his underwear.

There were some things he just wasn't ready to explain yet.

*

Angelo trotted into the room, his fur caked with mud and grime from rolling around outside and playing in the spring-time puddles. He grinned his goofy dog-grin at Squall, who visibily flinched.

"Rinoa. Your dog. Get him out. Right now."

Rinoa looked up from the book she was reading. "Squall, he's not hurting you."

"He smells."

She frowned, hurt. "My baby doesn't smell." She patted the spot beside her and allowed him to jump up. Then the smell hit. "Ew, gross. Angelo!" She held her nose, shooing him down from the sofa. "Call Selphie, Squall. She owes him a bath."

*

Her child-fingers twisted along the sand, drawing fireworks and rainbows and everything cute brown-haired girls liked to draw. Her green jumper was smudged with dirt and sweat, proof of a fun day outside. Matron was saying it might rain tomorrow; she was set on spending all of today outside.

She was almost finished drawing when a blonde boy came trotting along. He swiped his foot across her sandy canvas, destroying her masterpiece.

"Seifer! Don't be such a meanie!" 

"Y'can draw inside. Let's play Monsters instead. You an' me against Zell."

Selphie giggled. "But we can't make him cry this time!"

*

Zell flexed his fists, the leather of his gloves shifting easily with the movement. Dried mud, dried Marlboro guts, and dried Galbadian soldier blood fell from them like tiny scabs. 

"Sweetie," his ma's voice was sweetly coaxing, "just let me wash them in the sink, and I'll give them right back. That smell alone is sure to scare all those baddies away. Won't be able to actually use them if you don't clean 'em up soon," she teased him, smiling.

He slowly removed the deadly weapons, handing them over. He felt naked, dirtier without them, as though it wasn't natural.

*

"It's a dirty job, but - - "

"Someone's gotta do it," Seifer finished, interrupting. "I know. Could you be any more cliché, Kinneas?"

Irvine thought on this for a few minutes. He was giving Dincht a run for his money with those stupid thinking-grins. "I once sang "Achey Breaky Heart" in a karaoke contest."

"Definitely would have paid someone to kill my sense of hearing if I'd been there." Seifer hoisted the trashbag from the ground and tossed it into the Garden vehicle. Stupid community service. He wasn't used to being on this side of the DC's fist of justice. 

*

"Hm..." Selphie peered over the cards in her hand. "Got anything you're willing to wager?"

Zell bit his bottom lip, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration. "I don't like playin' against you, Selph. You play too dirty."

"Aw!" She stuck her tongue out at him. "Don't be such a baby, Zell. It's not my fault you can't play with Trabian rules. If you can't run with the big dogs, stay on the porch."

"D'ya steal that line from Irvine?" He thumbed through his cards one more time. No way he was going to lose to a _transfer_ student of all people.

*

He tugged on the ruffly edge of the skirt, trying in vain to pull it farther down. It was a stupid idea, and he racked his brain trying to figure out just how he had gotten talked into it. Stupid, stupid.

Zell grit his teeth and knocked on the door. While he waited, he shifted a few times, trying to get his unmentionables comfortable in the confining black panties. 

Finally, the door was answered. "It's about time you're here. My room isn't going to clean itself, you know." Seifer stepped aside. "Make sure you don't miss anything. Don't leave any dirty spots."

*

Zell's muscles sang a silent chorus as he stepped under the stinging hot water of the shower. He'd been pounding at grats for the majority of the day, releasing some of the sexual frustration he just couldn't get rid of. It had been too long since he'd felt someone else's skin against his own.

 _Way to not think about it._ Leaning against the tile of the shower's wall, he wrapped his hand around his cock. He thought of Seifer's strong hands on his hips.

Fantasy-Seifer nibbled the base of Zell's neck, muttering, "And this is how dirty boys get clean."

*

"Quisty," he drawled, "don't look so tense."

She shot him a look, as if to tell him that no, she wasn't bothered by the awkwardness of the situation, that it was no big deal that just the night before, her tongue had swirled miraculous circles around Xu's clit while Irvine fucked her from behind. "Don't stir up any dirt, Kinneas."

Xu blushed and pretended to be terribly intrigued by something outside.

"I won't. Long as y'all promise me we do that again reeeeal soon." 

"Irvine..." Quistis began to warn him.

He waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. Shutting up now."


	5. Exhibition

It started out as a dare. A drunken dare that had somehow gotten Seifer's famous trenchcoat involved. Now, having had some tequila shots, Zell found himself completely nude except for the oversized coat covering him. Flash the guy at the front gate, that chick in the library, and a cafeteria lady. 

It was a bad idea. Even drunk, Zell knew this. But Seifer was doing some heavy-duty coaxing. Ear nibbles and neck-licking. Just wasn't fair. 

"Not chickening out, are you?" A husky rumble against Zell's ear.

He'd regret it in the morning, but Seifer promised he'd make it worth it.


	6. Infatuation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Drabbles are (mostly) unrelated and broken up within the chapter with this pretty asterisk: *

"She's staring at me," Zell murmured, trying not to move his lips.

"What?" Seifer looked up from his menu. "She followed us here?"

Zell nearly shouted. "No, no! Don't look!" He dropped his voice down to whisper, "She'll know we're talking about her."

"What does it matter?" Seifer asked, glancing back down at his menu. "Your ass is mine tonight anyway. Let her watch. Maybe she's into that kind of thing." He smirked at Zell from across the table. "Unless you want me to share you with her..."

He blushed and began concentrating on his menu. "So, what's good here?"

*

There were times when Seifer wished Zell knew more about 'personal space.' He was hovering over Seifer's shoulder, too close for comfort as Seifer tried explaining his latest discovery on the Internet: Fanfiction.

"So, what, these girls are, like, obsessed with us, or somethin'?" Zell questioned, curious. 

Seifer could have smacked that innocence right off his face. Instead, he clicked on a link, bringing up a dirty fanart of them. "Yeah. I'd say so."

Zell almost toppled over. "No way! That's wrong, man."

"Don't act like you haven't thought about it."

"Yeah, whatever. Let's just go get some food."

*

Irvine Kinneas stared wide-eyed at the movie screen, pushing another handful of popcorn into his mouth. The actor from Esthar playing the untouchable Agent X made guns look so _cool_. All bang-bang and pow-pow. Shoot the villains, rescue the girl, and ride off into the sunset. What he wouldn't give to be that cool. To have all that power in one hand. 

He turned to whisper something to his date, about how he was going to take up sharpshooting because that actor made it look so awesome, but she had dozed off. He needed a better leading lady.

*

Seifer joined his fellow Disciplinary Committee members at their usual cafeteria table. They'd had a busy morning, handing out demerits to the new kids on campus. They checked for dress code compliance and ensured weapons and magic were only used in the Training Center. It wasn't the DC's fault if they hadn't learned the rules over the summer.

"COUNT?" 

"I got five, ya know?"

Seifer sipped thoughtfully on his soda. "Eight from that loud-mouthed punk alone."

Fujin gave him a knowing look.

"Ya just look for reasons to - -"

Fujin interrupted Raijin with a swift kick under the table.

*

Kid's been here at least eight times this week. He makes me nervous with all his bounce and spunk and goddamn, he's bound to knock something over. It's the same ol' routine. He comes in to my shop, waves his hello, fiddles around the new stuff, and makes his way to the gloves.

I can tell the love of the fight is in his blood. He's got that quick energy about him. He'll probably end up talking his ma (bless her heart) into letting him study at Balamb Garden. Good thing. Would hate to see that passion go to waste.

*

When they met Laguna in Esthar, it didn't take long for it to click in Irvine's head where he'd seen the dark-haired man before. How could he forget hair like that? Laguna had played the mysterious Agent X in the Guns and Love movies Irvine had watched growing up. He was the reason Irvine had chosen the rifle as his weapon. This was... Unbelievable, to say the least.

Later, they talked about it over a beer. And then one beer turned into... Hell, who was counting? 

"I fuckin' loved your movies, man."

Laguna hiccuped. "Wanna see some behind the scenes?"

*

Squall was beginning to think he wasn't cut out for the whole SeeD thing. Maybe he was; he just wasn't up for his current task. 'Wake the princess?' He hadn't trained his whole life to be a babysitter. He didn't wield one of the most difficult weapons to poke at Sleeping Beauty. 

An awkward conversation and then, "Here, let me introduce you. This is my partner, Angelo." 

The dog sniffed at his boots and made a slight whimpering noise before mounting his shin.

"Is your dog humping my leg?"

Rinoa giggled behind her hand. "I think he likes you."


	7. Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Drabbles are unrelated and broken up within the chapter with this pretty asterisk: *

"You're standing too close to the speakers, Instructor." A Trepie was at her side, hand on her elbow. He led her away, and Quistis wondered when she had turned into a helpless old lady. 

"No, really..." she began to say, but he shushed her with a finger to her lips. 

He looked up at the doorframe above them. "Oh, looks like mistletoe."

Quistis shook her head. "No."

"But... Tradition!"

She thought to cast Petrify and be done with it... Instead she gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and darted off before she could be coerced into anything else.

*

She had seen enough sappy romance movies to know what a _real_ kiss was. It was catching each other in the pouring rain, spilling out feelings they'd been afraid to say before. The guy holding the girl's face in his hands, eyes wide with emotion. And the girl standing there, tears of joy escaping her eyes and rolling down her cheeks, blending with the rain.

That was a _real_ kiss.

So when she kissed Squall for the first time, and it was nothing more than a short graze of their lips, Rinoa couldn't help but feel that something was missing.


	8. Laguna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Drabbles are unrelated and broken up within the chapter with this pretty asterisk: *

Laguna knows their love was the kind that only happens once every fifty or so years, but there are days when it's a curse.

There are days when it hurts too much think about her. When her hands are wrapped around his heart, wrenching it and unwilling to let go. These are the days he steals a drink or two from this flask, filled with Trabian whiskey. 

He feels guilty for not visiting her grave more often and gives thought to moving out to Winhill. Away from the buzzing of Esthar. Away from everything she held a solid distaste for.

*

Laguna was beginning to think it was a total mistake. His friend was a major buzz-kill.

"What's the point?" Kiros didn't even attempt to stifle his yawn.

Laguna sighed over-dramatically. "Look, the guys have to skate around and get the little black thing in the net using those sticks. It's hockey. D'uh."

"Hockey? Also known as the most ridic- - " He was interrupted as the fans around them began to chant "ESTHAR ELNOYLES" together. He rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "most ridiculous sport ever with the most obnoxious fans."

"LET'S KICK SOME GALBADIAN BUTT, ELNOYLES!" Laguna shouted.


	9. Mistaken Identity

Shiva slid into the folds of his mind easily, just like all the other times before. But something wasn't right. This wasn't Squall. There was no void of emotion. No chill to match her own. No secret pain. No gunblade skills stored away.

All she could feel was a burning energy, and she could swear she heard Quezacotl's own buzzing a few membranes over. An aching hunger for... hotdogs? A vast expanse of knowledge, history. Quick punches and jabs, memorized and constantly playing within his memory.

This was not her human.

How did she get paired with the tattooed one?


	10. Personal Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Drabbles are unrelated and broken up within the chapter with this pretty asterisk: *

The bed in her dorm was small, but the dark-haired girl snuggled against her didn't seem to mind. It was as if the bed gave them an excuse to be pressed so closely. Add that to the champagne they shared earlier, and any qualms about personal space were thrown out the window.

They had revoked her instructor's license. So dismissively and quickly Quistis almost didn't believe it.

She shifted under the light blanket and pulled Xu closer. She found comfort in her scent, the tickling brush of her hair. Quistis rarely let people so close. But this... This was okay.

*

Light, shallow breaths. In, out. She could feel the seconds ticking by. Slowly and labored, procrastinating her ever-so-certain demise. She was lost in space. No one would come back for her. The very thought of dying out here made her heart race faster and her breath sped, as if she might hyperventilate. 

_Rinoa, slow it down._

She closed her eyes. This was her moment. Her time. Her universe. Her space. 

At that moment, everything was hers. Infinite amounts of space and time and everything that was and ever would be. It was laid out for her as she drifted along.


	11. Scandal

When _Girl Next Door_ contacted her to do a full-out spread, Quistis blushed a deep pink and politely declined. Her girlfriend, though, managed to talk her into it. 

"Quisty, you know you're gorgeous," Xu offered sweetly and brushed rogue hair from the instructor's cheeks. "Show those guys what they're missing out on."

She grinned at that. "Make them jealous?" 

Xu kissed her, smiling against her lips. "You're mine, but I don't mind them looking."

The Trepies did a good job of boosting her self-esteem. She figured she should re-pay them a bit. Or sexually frustrate them to death. Either one.


	12. Seifer Almasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Drabbles are (mostly) unrelated and broken up within the chapter with this pretty asterisk: *

The funny thing about everything that had happened - - 

Seifer paused, tripping over his own thoughts. Funny? What was funny? Violence and bloodshed and a dark seduction against his ear. Curling fingers in his mind. A warmth he couldn't explain, simply because it was so cold. Drifting but never quite being there. Sing-song voice cackling against the folds and dips of his conciousness. Electric nerves, every inch of his skin on fire. 

Funny? 

Yesterday, yesterday, yesterday.

Today, today, today.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. 

A sorceress, a hero, a blip in time, everything, and then nothing.

The joke was on him.

*

A glass of beer is getting warm in his hand. He's never been a drinker. He doesn't appreciate the fuzz of alcohol along his thoughts, nor is he a big fan of not being in control. Simple truths of a simple man.

The bartender is watching him. Seifer can't be trusted, quite obviously. Crimes against humanity, brainwashing, bribery. 

He's the bad guy.

"Either drink it or leave," the guy says, and Seifer guesses his name is Carl or Joe. Something tough, some name that gives this guy balls to be a jackass.

"On my way." He doesn't finish his drink.


	13. Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Drabbles are unrelated and broken up within the chapter with this pretty asterisk: *

She held a baby in her arms, bundled in a blue blanket. "Hush little baby, don't say a word. Matron's gonna buy you a mockingbird..." Her voice, soft and soothing, quieted down as her husband peeked into the room.

"Looks like he's already asleep," he told her and shifted nervously at the door.

The dark-haired woman nodded and brushed the baby's cheek. "Put up a big fight." Leaning, she gently nestled the baby into his crib. Another boy to add to the three they already had. All orphaned by the war, all sleeping and not yet aware of their fate.

*

"How many times are you going to snooze?" Squall ran a towel through his damp hair, casting a dubious glance to the person still in his bed. 

"Nine more minutes, please. Sleep is good."

"Kinneas, you said that twenty-six minutes ago. This will be your third snooze in... three... two... one." 

Sure enough, the alarm went off a third time, and a trained arm shot out to silence the blaring _beep beep beep_. "Squall, please. All this time, you've been a silent bastard. Now is not the time to change that."

"..."

"Uuugh. Please don't brood. Just come back to bed."


	14. Telephone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Drabbles are unrelated and broken up within the chapter with this pretty asterisk: *
> 
> Song credit: Carrie Underwood, "Cowboy Casanova"

It was black and silver, sleak in that subdued way. Nothing fancy, just practical. He was able to make and take calls, as well as handle his emails. Didn't need it to do much else.

"Tell me you've got picture messaging on that thing."

 _Normally_ , he didn't need much else from it, but Seifer was away, and Squall refused to do any "sexting." 

"You were there when I bought it. You tell me." Squall shifted the phone from his ear and began scrolling through the different functions. "It's here."

Seifer failed at hiding his excitement. "Show me what I'm missing."

*

"Make it stop!" Seifer shifted under warm covers and pulled the pillow over his head. There was some Hyne awful music coming from the vibrating mechanism on the bedside stand. Buzzing and singing, " _He’s a good time cowboy Casanova /  
Leaning up against the record machine / Looks like a cool drink of water / But he’s candy-coated misery..._"

Zell reached out and grabbed the phone, silencing the noise. "Whaddya want?" 

"Tell Irvine you'll give him the details later." Seifer mumbled something about Zell and Irvine gossiping like a pair of twelve year old girls and turned to get more sleep.


	15. Winter

It was too cold to go out, and Seifer was not budging on the issue. "It's not happening."

Zell huffed, annoyed. "Alright, ya big baby." He stuck out his tongue at Seifer and wrapped his striped scarf around his neck. "Be emo and alone on YOUR BIRTHDAY."

This statement didn't affect Seifer in the least. "It will still be my birthday when you come back in."

Zell knew it was a lost cause. He took his excitement for the snow outside, accompanied by Selphie.

After awhile, though, he returned, shivering and aching for Seifer's fire to warm him once more.


	16. Coffee

Zell thinks that maybe Dollett is one of his favorite places. He can't decide its actual rank among his other favorites, but as he steps into the local coffee shop, the town easily jumps to second best.

He's never been a fan of coffee, but the smell reminds him of home. 

The shop owner smiles at Zell from the counter. "Lieutenant Dincht! The usual?"

Zell beams and sits at his table. "Yeah, man!"

The owner chats jovially about the weather and town happenings as Zell scarfs down his cinnamon streusel and chugs his milk.


	17. Wake Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Drabbles are unrelated and broken up within the chapter with this pretty asterisk: *

Fujin, not so gently, nudged Raijin's shin. "WAKE UP!"

Raijin cursed and gripped the pier, nearly falling into the water below him. "Fuuuu," he whined and squinted against the afternoon sun. "What gives?"

Barely shrugging, she looked past him. "SEIFER?"

"...Dunno. Said somethin' about the gift shop for some potions."

"ODD." 

Raijin wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist. "Should be back soon, ya know?"

She sighed and turned on her heel. "HOW LONG?"

His cheeks burned; she wouldn't like his answer, "I, uh... Dunno. Sorry, Fuu."

Their fearless leader returned. "Stop goofing off. Time to get going."

*

The silence of his dream is deafening. There is a faint tug against him, as though he is falling. Falling down? 

'If you hit the ground in your dream, you die in your sleep.'

Whispered words from long ago echo behind his eyes. 

Ultimecia fucked the tendrils and curves of his mind, and his one savior of a thought is that of a young boy in blue overalls who cried when the sea flooded his sandcastle. 

He is bouncing up and down, mouth open from silent shouting. Seifer hears him, faintly. Then louder. 

"wakeupwakeUPWAKEUP! Seifer! 's just a dream."


	18. "Who dressed you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recently the rules of the community changed to now allow up to 500 words. This particular work is 275 words.

"You're dressed funny," said one blonde little boy to another.

The younger one, small and timid only because he was new to the orphange, hugged his stuffed chocobo more closely and looked down at his attire. Overalls that were too big with stitched patches of denim to cover the holes. Underneath, a ratty, torn discolored t-shirt. He kept his thumb in his mouth and shrugged.

"Stay here." The first boy stood on chubby legs and disappeared from the room. When he returned, he held out a blue vest. "You can wear this until Matron finds better clothes for you. Name's Seifer, by the way. I like you 'cause you're not drooling over Squall like the girls are." He huffed with annoyance and plopped back onto the floor. "What's your name?"

"I don't have a name," he said and sat beside Seifer.

Seifer, in his innocence, couldn't comprehend this. "What?! Whoever dressed you didn't give you a name?"

The boy shook his head.

"We'll call him Zell," Matron said, sweeping into the room in that magical way the children loved. "You can keep your vest, Seifer. It's too big for him." She scooped Zell into her arms, and Seifer watched as she dressed him in better fitting clothes. "Much better." She smiled warmly at the small young boy and kissed his nose before putting him back down. "Play nicely, Seifer. He isn't as rough as you are."

Seifer's eyes widened. "You ain't a crybaby, are ya?"

 

"Aren't," Matron corrected. "And we don't call people names, remember?"

"You just called him Zell. That's name-calling," he sassed, and Zell could only watch as Seifer got a disciplinary pinch.


End file.
